I Can Be Your Hero
by AutisticAlice
Summary: Arthur is sick with a cold, and it's up to Alfred to be the hero in order to make him feel better. The only problem is, will Arthur reject Alfred's love? UsUk fluff
1. A Bad Cold

Okay, I know it sounds similar to my previous story. I tried to make it as different as possible. I got so many feels from these guys like ahhhhh. I love them so muuuuuch. 3

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Arthur tried to cough away the tickle in his throat. For some reason, this tickle had been bothering him all day. It made him wonder if he was getting sick with a cold or something. The Brit had been working his ass off signing papers, attending Alfred's ridiculous meetings and dealing with the pervert Francis. There were more pressing matters on his mind that he couldn't be bothered to think about since they only increased his stress.

It was a good thing he could finally get the day off. Maybe if he got some rest, everything would return to normal. Arthur sighed as he lay in bed and closed his eyes, soon falling fast asleep. The short nap didn't really help his lack of sleep much. Now, his head was pounding worse than anything.

_I just need some Nurofen, yeah that's it..._ he thought to himself, realizing what a splitting headache he had.

Arthur took two of the painkillers and went back to sleep, hoping his throbbing headache would go away. He woke up about two hours later, still not getting the rest he needed. Something didn't feel right at all. His body felt weak, and the tickle on his throat become scratchy and sore. Arthur sniffled a he started coughing. Great, just what he needed to make his day worse... a cold.

The doorbell started to ring as he shuffled to the door, taking his time just to get there. Whoever was at the door seemed really impatient. Arthur flung it open with his pounding head ready to explode from the echoing sound.

"What _is_ it?!" he snapped as he sneezed a few times.

Standing there with a playful expression was his companion Alfred. "Yo, dude! How's it hanging?" he waved to the Brit who groaned, along the American to let himself inside. "Geez... you seem crankier than usual, you okay bro?" he blinked as Arthur rubbed his temples with a sigh.

"No, you bloody twit! I'm quite infirm at the moment, if you couldn't tell. I don't have the patience nor time to entertain you right now..." he snapped at Alfred who blinked and closed the door behind him.

"Aw, I came all the way here to see you because I've missed you!" Alfred pouted, only to annoy Arthur more. "Can't you at least be happy to see me?" he crossed his arms and continued to pout.

"I have more pressing matters to attend to, so kindly bugger off and leave me be!" he said with a heavy cough.

"Dude, what is wrong with you? You've never been this crabby before..." Alfred blinked at Arthur who growled weakly.

"I've been saying it it for the last few minutes! I'm _ill_, you bloody dunce!" he replied with a squeaky sore voice. "I've strained my throat enough just speaking to you, so I repeat again, _bugger off_!" he told the American as he started coughing again, wincing with pain.

Alfred frowned as he felt Arthur's forehead with a sigh. "Dude, you're burning up, bro..." he pouted at the Brit again.

The American picked Arthur up in his arms and carried him around. Arthur tried to fight him, but he was too weak to match Alfred's massive strength at the moment. He really hated being sick, especially when he had to deal with this bloody fool.

"Unhand me, you twit!" he said with a hoarse whisper.

"Nope! It's time for you to get some sleep, dude!" he grinned at Arthur as he placed him into bed.

Alfred started undoing his clothes, which completely horrified the Brit. His kicking and hitting didn't seem to drive him off. Arthur blushed madly as he pulled the covers over himself in nothing but his boxers. The American pulled out some striped pajamas when Arthur grabbed them and changed under the blankets. His pajamas had a comforting feeling that made him feel a little sleepy.

"Is there anything else you need, bro?" he grinned, despite Arthur blushing like a fool.

"Get out of my room, you bloody wanker!" Arthur yelled, only straining his throat more.

Alfred actually listened to his orders and let the Brit get some needed rest. Maybe he wouldn't be so cranky if he got some sleep. It was no fun being sick, even the Alfred had hardly been ill.

Arthur woke up nearly two hours later, feeling as though his head would explode. Alfred managed to find a thermometer to take the Brit's temperature. This only made him frown when he knew Arthur had a fever.

"Dude, your temp is 101.2°F..." he said as he felt Arthur's forehead with a pout.

"We'll, I _am_ ill, you twit!" he crossed his arms and scowled at the American who was only trying to help. "You know, what you could do is make me some peppermint tea." he said with a few sneezes.

"Uh, how do I do that, dude?" he blinked, only for Arthur to sigh.

"I fall ill, yet I still have to do everything around here..." he mumbled as he made his way downstairs.

Arthur made himself some tea, despite feeling miserably sick. It didn't help that his head still felt like it was going to explode at any moment. Alfred watched him plop onto the couch when he went to get a blanket and put around Arthur's shoulders.

"Uh, thanks?" he blinked at the American's odd generosity.

"I still think you should get some rest, dude. I know you haven't been getting very much sleep at night." he frowned Arthur as he glared at Alfred.

"What are you, a bloody stalker?" he sniffled and started coughing. "I don't need to baby me..." he said as he grabbed a tissue to blow his nose.

"Geez, I'm only trying to help, bro..." he pouted and crossed his arms.

Arthur sighed as he finished his tea and went back up to bed. There wasn't really any point in fighting sleep when you're sick. Alfred followed him up to his room and kissed Arthur's forehead just as soon as he fell asleep.

_Dude, I'm going to be the hero and stay here to cheer him up, no matter how much he regrets me doing this for him, man!_ Alfred thought to himself with a big grin on his face.


	2. Bath time & Soup

Alright. Here's the next chapter. I thought it came out really cute, but it's only going to get cuter. :'D I can't get enough of UsUk. ;w;

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Arthur couldn't be anymore sicker, especially with the annoying American at his house. It was impossible for him to get any of the sleep he greatly needed. Alfred kept bothering him and wondering if he was feeling any better. Though, he found odd that the American was so worried about his poor health.

Still, Alfred was driving him crazy when all he wanted to do was rest. The soup that the American made didn't really taste that bad. He wouldn't admit it, but it did make him feel a little better. That is, if he didn't still have a splitting headache.

"I think I know what you need, dude!" Alfred grinned and winked at Arthur who just sighed.

"Yeah... what I need is to get some bloody rest, you twit!" he frowned as Alfred crossed his arms and scowled.

"No, dude! I was talking about a bath!" he placed his hands on his hips.

"What the bloody hell are thinking?!" he scowled at the American who scooped him up and carried to the bathroom. "Unhand me, you bloody wanker!" he tried to fight Alfred, but he just laughed and placed Arthur on the floor.

Alfred drew his bath for him while pulling off his clothes as Arthur blushed madly. It wasn't until Arthur blushed with a horrified expression. Arthur shoved the bloody American out the door and took off his own clothes. The Brit got into the tub and sighed, feeling a little bit better. All he cold think about was how annoying Alfred was being than normal. Alfred was driving him crazy as his heart hammered his chest.

Arthur dipped his throbbing head under the water for a few seconds until coming up for air. He got out of the tub and dried off before throwing his pajamas back on. Alfred was happy to see the Brit who only seemed to sigh and look away.

"Are you feeling any better, bro?" he grinned, thinking his plan worked.

"Would you stop bloody asking me that?! I'm still sick, you bloody dunce!" he snapped at Alfred who only pouted at him.

"Geez, you're a birch when you don't feel good, dude!" he crossed his arm, nearly sulking from getting snapped at.

"It's because _I don't feel well_ that I'm a bitch!" he scowled and headed back to bed. "I'm going to take a nap. Maybe you could do something useful say, I don't know bugger off?" he to,d the American who climbed into bed and closed his eyes.

Alfred had no other options to make the Brit feel any better. He know what Arthur needed was to get some rest though. It wasn't something he would deprive his companion of, that's for sure. The American smiled as he pulled the covers over Arthur and kissed his forehead. Arthur turned in his sleep and whimpered a little.

Alfred placed a hand under Arthur's bangs and frowned. _Geez, he feels hot still... I don't know what I should to make him feel better, man..._ he continued to frown as he felt Arthur's flushed cheeks.

It wasn't until Alfred felt a tug on his heart, causing him to lean into Arthur's lips. His cheeks flushed as he let them longer less than an inch away from the Brit's mouth. If he kissed him, he would risk getting his cold. Still, maybe it was worth it, but he pulled away when Arthur turned the other direction.

"Mmm... A-Alfred... y-y-you bloody twit... I don't... I don't want your... hamburger..." he scowled in his sleep as the American chuckled.

Arthur turned again, facing his back towards Alfred as he continued to sleep. There were no further remarks about the Brit's dream about the bloody American. Alfred noticed the dream made Arthur's cheeks redder than usual. Maybe was just the fever, but is it possible this Brit shared his feelings?

Alfred took off his pilot jacket and placed over Arthur with a smile. He headed downstairs to make the Brit some chicken noodle soup, which his mother made for him when he was sick. Arthur only had one can of soup left in his pantry that Alfred warmed up for the Brit. Alfred poured him some cold ginger ale to help his sore throat.

Arthur woke up from his short nap, still not feeling any better. His sleep schedule was going to be more screwed up from sleeping during the day. Though, it couldn't be helped when he felt this ill.

Alfred came up with a tray that surprised Arthur at first. Why was he offering so much of his generosity to the sick Brit? It made him smile a bit that the American was only trying to nurse him back to health again. He appreciated Alfred's efforts to make him feel better since he really was trying. That want typical for the American to do for someone like him, especially considering how they fought so much.

"Come on, dude! Eat your soup already. It will make you feel better, bro!" he told the Brit with a smile.

Arthur nodded and started eating his chicken noodle soup. It ran down his scratchy, sore throat and offered some relief from the stinging pain. Alfred continued to smile at Arthur as he finished eating his soup.

"Is it any good, dude?" he asked as Arthur nodded and blushed a bit.

Arthur sipped some of the ginger ale after eating all of the soup Alfred made. He placed the ginger ale on his nightstand so that Alfred could take down the tray. The American came back upstairs and noticed the Brit had fallen asleep again.


	3. You Drive Me Crazy

I got so many feels from writing this. ;w;

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The fever only seemed to get worse, especially with his splitting headache. Arthur couldn't stop coughing enough to let his sore throat rest some. It didn't help that both his ears were throbbing as much as his head. His congestion seemed to turn every completely upside down for him. Alfred was doing his best to make the Brit feel better still.

It was nearly one in the morning, and Arthur couldn't get any sleep. The head cold seemed to have knocked him to hell and back. Alfred frowned as he felt Arthur's forehead, realizing he definitely had a high fever.

"You're burning up, dude." Alfred pouted at him, only to be pulled closer to the Brit. "Huh? I'm starting to worry about you here, bro..." he blushed as Arthur buried his face into Alfred's broad chest.

"Be quiet... you bloody twit... I feel shitty enough... without you... talking so much..." he sneezed twice until he began coughing again.

"Oh? Should I keep talking to you then?" he teased Arthur who really just wanted to smack the bloody American. "Geez, don't get your boxers in a bunch, dude. I'm only trying to make you feel better..." he pouted after placing his arms around the Brit.

Arthur fell sound asleep in the soothing embrace from Alfred, despite his massive headache. He had no idea what was coming over him so suddenly. The American refused to leave his bedside while the Brit was feeling ill. It still didn't make their feelings for each other any less hidden for the other.

Alfred kissed Arthur's forehead with a smile, letting him get his rest. It made the American blush just watching the Brit sleep soundly. Arthur was like a little child sleeping like a baby in Alfred's arms.

He realized just how innocent and adorable Arthur was while sleeping. This only caused him to blush as he held the Brit tighter in his arms. Alfred was always smiling when he was with Arthur, which probably really meant something to him.

Arthur woke up smoothed to Alfred's chest, causing him to shove him away. This lead to the Brit falling into the floor with horrifying expression on his face. Alfred peered over the bed and blinked with confusion.

"What the bloody hell are you thinking, you dunce? Are you trying to get yourself bloody killed?!" he said with a strained, squeaky voice.

"Dude, you're the one who snuggled into my arms!" he smiled at the Brit as he blushed more.

"Stop pudding around, bloody wanker! I wouldn't be caught _dead_ snuggling in your arms like that!" he continued to squeak as Alfred chuckled at him.

"Yeah, sure dude. You could always blame it on that high fever too." Alfred shrugged while sitting on Arthur's bed.

"Ugh. Just shut it already! My head is bloody killing me right now!" he winced when he placed his hand on his head.

"Isn't that what painkillers are for, bro?" Alfred asked as he tilted head head at the Brit.

"No, you stick them up your ass, you bloody twit!" he snapped, only for Alfred to pout at him and realized he was still cranky.

Arthur stood back up and headed off to the bathroom for some Motrin. Maybe the bloody American was right... some medicine might help him feel better. Alfred felt Arthur's forehead when he slapped away his hands.

"I think we've already established the fact that I have a bloody fever..." he sniffled and blew his nose with some toilet paper.

"Geez, you're no fun when you're sick..." Alfred crossed his arms and pouted again.

"I'm in no mood to deal with your bloody antics right now!" he told the American as he poked Arthur's feverish cheeks playfully. "Did you hear a bloody word I said to you?" he glared at Alfred who continued to be a pest.

It was nearly three in the morning, and he still had very little sleep. Arthur wondered if Alfred realized just how miserable he felt that night. The bloody American grabbed his stomach and pulled him close. The Brit tired to push him away as he attempted to squirm free from Alfred's embrace.

"Unhand me now, you bloody wanker!" he yelled, only to strain his throat and start coughing. "I'm ill, you bloody dunce! You should be bloody nice to me!" he grew weak trying to fight off the bloody American.

"Dude, I know you enjoy this. Don't even try to deny it, bro." he grinned as Arthur attempted to pull Alfred's hands off him.

"You're a bloody nutcase, Alfred!" he whispered hoarsely now from yelling so much.

Arthur turned to the boy's face until the two of them blushed madly. Their lips moved closer, causing them to blush madly. Alfred was about to kiss him when the Brit sneezed in his face, making the American pout.

"Geez, you didn't have to sneeze in my face, bro!" Alfred told him, realizing how much Arthur was blushing from embarrassment. "Aw, dude! You're face is totally a tomato right now!" he chuckled as Arthur glared angrily at him.

"How am I supposed to feel when you were about bloody kiss me!?" his face flushed more just thinking about actually kissing him.

"You know dude, the way you're making such a big deal... it's almost like you wanted me to kiss you!" he teased the Brit as he chuckled harder.

"Shut it, you bloody twit! I never said anything of the sort!" he crossed his arms, despite still blushing madly. "I'm exhausted, and I feel like complete shit right now..." he told Alfred and lay back down in his bed with a scowl.

"Isn't the medicine even trying to help you feel better, dude?" Alfred frowned, suddenly acting more serious than usual.

Arthur shook his head, only for it to throb more. It didn't seem to be touching his headache or bringing down his fever either. Alfred placed his hand on Arthur's hot cheek with a frown.

The American leaned down towards the Brit's ear and pouted. "_Please don't die on me, dude. I need you..._" he whispered, causing Arthur to blush again.

"You bloody twit... I have a cold... I'm not going to die just yet!" he sighed as his cheeks continued to flush bright red.


End file.
